


Luke Skywalker's Excellent Adventure

by Ablubluh



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, anyway the aim is to finagle this into luke skywalker/asajj ventress buddy cop au, i know it's him. you know it's him. this is fine., i mean it doesnt say its fox but. its him, probably i'll make luke fight a giant mantis shrimp. it'll be great
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 20:50:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8117125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ablubluh/pseuds/Ablubluh
Summary: Luke gets sent to the past, because I want to explore his interactions with prequel/TCW characters, and plots that make sense are for nerds.





	

When the young man awakens, it’s with a throbbing headache, and a strange inability to use his right hand. _Blasted delicate circuitry_ , he thinks, fuzzily. As he blinks his eyes, the insistent (annoying) sounds that roused him solidify into a collection of warning beeps and sirens telling him that his fighter is experiencing critical systems failures on a number of levels. _Yeah, the breeze could have told me that._

Gripping his right shoulder with his left hand, he drags his unresponsive prosthetic from where it’s wedged between two big bits of metal. Lucky it wasn’t his flesh-and-blood arm, really. After that exertion, he sets about extricating himself from the wreckage of his ship. He’s panting when he finally flops down onto his rump on top the still shrieking thing. A thump of one heel through the console silences it. 

_Okay. Time to figure out where I am._ Memories bubble up to the surface as he awkwardly attempts a bit of one handed tinkering with his right arm. Messing with one’s own wires and panels, he’s learned over the last few cycles, is much harder than really it has any right to be. _I was flying…Wedge shouted something. Anomaly? Something like that. The rest of the squad-_ He sits up sharply, looking around. There’s no sign of any other debris. _Might be a good thing._ Might be a bad thing. It’s a bit early to make the call. He slides down the side of the remains of his fighter, wobbles a little as his feet hit the ground. Something sticky trickles down the side of his face. He ignores it.

Sirens. He thought he’d stopped- but they’re not coming from his ship. They’re rapidly approaching, in fact, sharp sounds echoing off the walls of the alley that the young man has crashed in. A small mammal squeak-grunts, bounding down along the slick artificial road surface. This could be a problem. Any place this _civilised_ in nature must be Empire territory. He screws up his face, an expression which turns to a grimace as his right arm disobeys his brain’s instructions to run habitual fingers through his sandy hair. Instead, his left moves to his hip, fingers tapping at the weapon hanging heavy there.

When a trio of white-armored soldiers round the corner, his saber lights up in his hand, an instant before his mind warns that something is _off_. He’s already settling into a defensive stance, useless arm angled behind himself, when the masked soldiers skid to a halt and salute him. _Red?_ He blinks at them, confused by both the gesture and by the markings on their armor. The tension in his stance doesn’t drop, and neither does his buzzing blade.

“Ah, apologies, General. There were reports of a disturbance-” The gruff voice contains some very ill-concealed disapproval, its owner leaning to the side to peer at the wreckage. “Er, was that you, sir? Some kind of engine malfunction?”

For far from the first time in his short life, Luke Skywalker is struck dumb. His mouth opens, closes, opens again. “…What?” His voice cracks, an unfortunate result of both confusion and adrenaline.

The two troopers behind the first don’t move an inch, but Luke could swear they exchange a look. The leader clears his throat. “Sir, do you require medical attention? We can assist you to the Temple.” 

Luke blinks, and blinks again. And a third time, for good measure. He glances at his blade, assuring himself it hasn’t turned red without him noticing. Slowly, he lowers it. “Um, I’m sorry, what temple? And who- you keep calling me sir. Who do you think I _am_ exactly?”

There’s a subtle but immediate change in the demeanour of the troopers. The two in the back tighten their grips on their weapons, and there’s a pause before their leader speaks carefully. “You’re carrying a Jedi’s saber. Are you telling me you’re not a Jedi?”

“Oh!” Luke’s chin tilts upward. “Yes. I’m a Jedi, like my-” That sentence grinds to a halt, pain sparking in his eyes, knuckles whitening for a moment at the hilt of his lightsaber. “I’m a Jedi.”

“Right, sir.” There’s doubt behind the conciliatory tone, and the lead trooper - _storm trooper? Doesn’t look quite right -_ reaches out a cautious hand. “You won’t mind if we accompany you to the Temple, then. I’m sure you need to check in with the Council.”

Individually, Luke understands each of the words the man is saying. Strung together in this particular order, though, he’s got no idea. A black haze is hovering at the edge of his vision, and he’s not sure if it’s dried blood or blood loss. Either way, not great. Even if these guys make a move, he’s not going to be able to do much about defending himself. Slowly, he lowers his hand, the blade disappearing with a soft sound. “…Sure. Okay.”

The walk isn’t a terribly long one, but Luke is stumbling over his own feet for most of it. For all the talk of some Council, the men in white and red take him straight to a medical suite where he’s quickly seen to by a quiet Kaminoan. When he awakens from the anaesthetic induced snooze that he’d sorely needed, there are two other people in the room. One is a helmeted trooper, seated by Luke’s bedside, clearly on guard duty. The other is occupying a bed across the room, and is in animated conversation with a handheld holo. 

“No, it’s not- Master, I’m fine, honestly! Come on, look at me. I’m going mad in this place. The doc said a good night’s sleep and I’ll be good as new, and I can sleep en route to- no, no, I can!” The holo’s replies are muffled, and abruptly it shuts off. The other patient groans, tossing the silent comms unit stroppily onto the blankets. Luke can’t help but laugh at the petulant display, though he muffles it into a snort. 

The togruta in the other bed throws him a sharp look, but it quickly softens into a self-effacing eye roll. “Sorry. I’m just frustrated, you know? I’m ready to be _out there_ , and I’m stuck-” She gestures around the room. “Here.”

Owen and Beru flit through his mind, and he smiles with a hint of sadness. “Yeah, I know the feeling.” Beside him, the trooper shifts in his chair, but doesn’t say anything.

She shoots him a smile. “It’s my own fault, I guess. Wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t been stupid enough to get hurt.” Propping herself up on an elbow, she repositions her pillows. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m usually on the front lines with my Master. My name’s Ahsoka Tano.”

Luke returns the smile, and is pleasantly surprised that when he lifts his right arm to give her a little wave, his fingers join in. He can feel something a little off in the servos, but nothing he can’t fix himself. “Same. I think. I can’t really remember- I crashed my ship, but I sort of can’t remember how.”  His smile turns sheepish, and he shakes hair out of his eyes. “I’m Luke. Luke Skywalker.”

The girl’s eyes widen, breath hissing sharply between her teeth. “What?”

“Yeah, I know it’s weird. I think I took a knock to the head when my-”

“No, not that. Skywalker?” Her eyes travel over him searchingly, zeroing in on the lines of his jaw, his prosthetic hand, gears almost audibly turning inside her skull.

He pauses. “Um, yes. You know the name?”

“You’re kidding, right?” She snorts, pushing the blankets back and swinging her legs out from under the covers. Springing to her feet with an agility that gives weight to her earlier insistence as to her fitness, she approaches his bed. 

Blinking up at her, he sits up cross-legged on the bed. “No? Why would I…do you know another Skywalker?” A strange sort of hope springs up in his chest. He’s lost an aunt and uncle, gained a sister, and had a very complicated situation arise with his father, all in pretty short succession. If he turns out to have more unexpected family… Well, he’ll deal with that as it comes.

Hands on hips, she leans down, staring at him. For a teenager, she’s kind of intimidating. “You can’t be serious.” Luke’s silent shrug assures her that he is, in fact, serious. “You haven’t heard of Anakin Skywalker? My master is kind of a big deal.”

All he can offer her is another shrug, though something in his belly goes cold at the name. He’s certain he’s never heard it, but the unease it causes in his very core is difficult to disregard. “Doesn’t ring a bell. Sorry.”

“Hrm.” Ahsoka doesn’t seem convinced, but she stops looming over him quite so intensely. It’s more of a relief than he expects. 

After a minute or two of silence, Luke clears his throat. “Look, sorry if this is a weird question, but. Where _am_ I?”


End file.
